Letters to Heaven
by Passionworks
Summary: In the spirit of a deranged mind, Ursa lives... Azula, fully recovered from mental illness, must discover the depths of her own father's insanity... Rated for violence, character death, and sexual content. Inspired by the movie, 'A Beautiful Mind.'


**Author's Note: Ah, this is not only an Ozula fic, but it is also an Urzai one, and not just any Urzai fic, it's my **_**first **_**one. I've always supported this canon pairing, and now is my chance to challenge myself.**

**Despite the said fact, this will still mainly focus on Ozula. The Urzai serves as a hindrance to the Ozula pairing. You'll learn why when this comes to that point.**

**The inspiration for this multi-chap is the amazing movie, 'A Beautiful Mind,' starring Russell Crowe and Jennifer Connelly. For those who have not seen it, it is a docudrama on the schizophrenic mind of Nobel Prize winner, John Nash (Crowe), who, with the help of his wife, Alicia (Connelly), discovers the cure of his plaguing delusions. I love this movie; I have to consider it to be my favorite, alongside 'Gone, Baby, Gone.'**

**Oh, and despite the popular stereotype of Azula being the schizophrenic, it is actually Ozai with the mental disorder. Azula had it, I suppose, back in the day, but she's over it, shall we say.**

………

**This prologue is the account of Ursa as a refugee in the Earth Kingdom, where she was banished. She has just recently made herself at home in a middle class apartment up in Ba Sing Se. The owners are general OCs and will probably never appear again. This whole prologue actually takes place before the main plot of my story here. I'll delve into that whole shebang later.**

Letters to Heaven

By: Passionworks

Prologue

Here, there was no prejudice. None. The people carried the jade green of their nation as a token of accomplishment on their workman's suntanned backs. They ate from the same bread, and shared the same conversations like schoolchildren in the yard.

This, thought a freshly-banished Ursa, was what set this poverty-stricken town apart from most places she was accompanied to. The citizens collaborated and shared as if sin and scandal were unheard of. Even young children heaved bags and supplies for their neighbors and parents.

The former Firelady (well, she never quite reached that title before her banishment) had become one of them. She adapted to their traditions, practiced their customs, and conjured up a few common allies along the way.

She was happy for the first time since her babies were born.

And, yet, sometimes, she thought of the two of them. Her dearest Zuko. She often felt that she abandoned the boy in the midst of heartache, but her conscience often scolded her for such thoughts. Azula, however, was a subject most difficult to comprehend. The girl was a lively, spirited, and popular social elite, but one that was overly narcissistic and sure of herself. Ursa's primitive instinct was to wonder whether or not the young princess felt regret in the slightest infliction when her mother left. Ursa, truth be told, had no answer to that, mainly for fear of _truth_ itself.

Today, the Fire Nation native lived in a small apartment complex in the middle class sector. A family owned the place: a grandfather and his wife making an honest living for their son and his wife, along with their two children, a girl of about Zuko's age and a newborn baby boy. Ursa kindly ran errands for the family on occasion, considering it to be a simple thing to do when outwardly showing her thankfulness. They had taken her in and allowed her to live in an available apartment for a lesser price, a gesture most Fire Nation dwellers would never consider in these terrible days.

On this particular afternoon, Ursa had made her way to the city square to order up fresh vegetables for the owners' upcoming dinner. Her bag rested limply against her hip, but it soon puckered up when she dropped a few green peppers and carrots inside it. Her hands folded around a rather plump tomato, her fingers caressing it in a way a mother would for her new baby. She raised the vegetable, eying it for discolorations and bad spots. Finding it in perfect shape and ripeness, she carefully set it in amongst the others in her sack. While she was at it, she gathered a few more and plopped them down. She settled on heads of broccoli and cabbage as well.

The owner thanked her for her service and asked for a couple silver pieces in return. Digging through the pocket of her vest, she pulled out a gold one and kindly asked him to keep the change.

Turning from the vegetable stand, Ursa weaved her way through the massive crowd and over to another stand, where little knickknacks were sold. She browsed over a few useless things, and decided to buy a doll for the apartment owners' granddaughter to play with. The girl really had nothing to call her own; this purchase was the least Ursa could do for the pleasant lass.

Again, she paid extra and demanded no change in return. The clerk insisted for a time, but, with a dismissive flick of her wrist, Ursa ended the prodding. Shyly thanking the woman for her goodwill, the clerk waved and went about her business with a second costumer.

Alone in the midst of this enormous work crowd, the former Fire Nation elite deduced that it was best for her to return to the apartment down a ways. The pathway marking her destination was unnaturally hectic, but she filed in the line and trudged on. Soon, the slightly dilapidated building was in her field of vision. From a distance, she could make out the form of the owner's grandchild picking berries in their back garden.

The young girl took note and waved the resident over.

As soon as Ursa made her way to her, she pulled the toy doll from her vest.

"I thought you might like this, Kimi," Ursa said in a gentle tone.

The child grasped the doll by its stuffed abdomen. Funny, thought Ursa suddenly, the doll looked almost strikingly identical to a toy Iroh had bought for Azula…

Wow," the youth shouted, inspecting the plaything with interested eyes, "thank you! She's very pretty. Where'd you get this?"

Ursa wrapped an affectionate arm around her shoulder. "At a shop downtown. Now, you go run along and play –I have to pay my week's rent to your grandpa."

With that, little Kimi nodded and skipped off with the doll tight to her undeveloped chest. Ursa smiled to herself and made her way to the den of the apartment complex. The front desk was welcoming her like a friendly hand.

She exchanged greetings with the owners. "How much this week?" she asked Goro, the grandfather.

"Same as usual," answered Hana, his wife, replying back for her husband.

"Aww, she went to all that trouble buying our week's groceries," whimpered Goro. "I think we should let it slide this once."

Hana nodded in reply. "What did you get, dear?"

Ursa heaved her shoulder bag over her frame and set it on the counter. She spilled its contents out.

"I bought the usual greens," she said, "peppers, cabbages, broccoli, carrots, tomatoes. You can make your famous vegetable soup this week, Hana."

The wrinkled Hana grinned like a rewarded child.

"And, please," Ursa demanded, "I should pay you for this week. I didn't spend enough for grocery shopping to equal a week's rent."

She dropped two gold pieces and three silvers on the table.

"That's more than enough," she said. "Please take it."

"Oh, dear, you are too kind," the two owners relented. Goro scraped the coins off the table and placed them into his pocket.

"Where are Washi and Nori this afternoon?"

A couple other residents passed the desk by, going off on their own errands for the day. One or two waved affectionate goodbyes to the owners.

"Nori is tending to the baby and Washi's out picking berries with Kimi. You didn't see him while you were out there?"

She had not.

"Well," she exhaled, "I'll be in my room. Feel free to call me down when supper's ready, Hana."

"Why, of course, dear."

………

The Fire Nation commanding officer led his men to where he had last spotted the Firelord's wife. He was a colonial native –he knew the terrain of Ba Sing Se quite well.

"Firelord Ozai's suspicions have been confirmed. Princess Ursa is living in the middle district of Ba Sing Se. Residents said a woman of her description is dwelling in the apartment complex east a ways from here. It isn't far, men."

A lower ranked man marched forward. "May I have permission to speak, sir?"

"Your request is granted, good man."

"What does the Firelord plan to have us do with his wife? Ship her off to the inner city prison?"

"No, no, lad," the officer stated while shaking his head. "We were given the order to slay her. Our Lord sees no reason in keeping his treacherous wife alive, considering her crime against Fire Nation humanity."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The young man stepped back to his spot in line.

"Let us keep moving, men."

The regiment was silent for the rest of the way, but their feet trotted audibly in an orderly manner. No foot fell before the others, which further echoed the sound all the more. The only perceptible voice was that of the trooper who called out the inevitable, "Left, left," for every set of steps.

"This is the correct address," the chief officer called out, silently ordering the men to quit the march. "She should be inside. Display no violence until we reach her; there is no need to arouse suspicion."

"Yes, sir," the men shouted at once.

"You there," he ordered a peculiar member, "knock on that door."

The low-ranked minion heeded the call, stepped forward and pounded the apartment's front door.

"Please," a female voice from the inside begged, presumably that of one of the owners, "do come in."

"Beware, men. This could be a trap if we're not prepared. Let me lead the way in."

With that said, the leader grasped the door's handle and swung it open.

"Fire Nation colonial soldiers!" shouted a resident, who scampered off in a manner of a scolded child.

"Silence," the officer ordered. "We are not out to harm you. I am Fire Nation officer, Yukio. My men and I are here to arrest a stowaway member of the Fire Nation. Does Princess Ursa happen to dwell here?"

"Who?" questioned Goro. "Only refugees live here, sir."

"Do not stall me, Earth Kingdom filth. I've been given tips from townsmen that a woman of Fire Nation descent is currently taking residence in this building."

"What kind of Fire Nation dweller are you speaking of?" Goro prodded. "Would she be worth a reward for capture?"

"Goro, do not question the soldier," Hana called out in response.

The commanding officer ignored the woman's request. "So, you _do_ know who this woman is?"

"No, sir," Goro replied, "but searching for her ourselves might be beneficial. Answer my question: does your _gracious_ Firelord offer a reward for her capture?"

"Firelord Ozai offers a reward to those who will have her slain. I doubt you have it in you to kill her, or, perhaps you might, considering you're all savages."

Goro ignored this joke and ventured onto a less violent subject. "Do you have a wanted portrait of this woman you are looking for, sir?"

"I do." He slipped a scroll out of his pocket with Ursa's painted face plastered on it.

Goro stole it from the Fire Nation soldier's grasp and inspected it. "Why, she's worth a boatload, but, no, I have never seen anyone like her before. She's too obviously Fire Nation to be allowed to stay here. You might be better off looking near the colonial regions –I've heard many Fire Nation escapees dwell there; she'd blend in better."

"You're lying."

"Who's to say that I am?"

"Never mind this one. He's probably collaborating with the Firelord's wife and stalling us from capturing her. Come, men, we must give this place the once-over. The higher ranks will search the upper floors. You all stay down here and explore the lower levels. Hold on. You there, go see if she's outside making a run for it."

The men followed the orders without question. Yukio followed his high-ranked men and bashed through the rooms without warning.

"Do not give her a chance to escape. Have some of the lower men barricade the entrances."

Yukio and the males continued on to the upper west wing. A few residents were loitering there in the halls, but most had the intellect to clear the path for the charging soldiers.

"There. That room in the corner is the last to be checked on this floor."

Three combatants took the implied order and bashed the wood door with their thick mallet-like weapons. Their boorish grunts were pig-like, animalistic, like wild beasts on the prowl for meat or a female in season. They swung their hammers mightily; sweat drizzling from their temples like rain.

At last, the door fell with a thunderous thud.

A woman's screech rang forth, but she was silenced by a furry hand to her mouth.

"Why," said Yukio, "if it isn't Princess Ursa, disgraced wife of Firelord Ozai."

The raven-haired female shook the hand from her maw. "I don't think I need such a ceremonial introduction."

"Oh, but I think you do."

She dodged this sly remark. "What do you plan to do with me now that I'm caught?"

"That's a good question, Ursa. You there, strap her down."

A young soldier performed as instructed.

"Princess Ursa, have you any words for your crimes?"

The former Fire Nation maiden lowered her head, her black tresses falling limply from her slender shoulders.

At this time, a crowd of residents had gathered at the hole that was once a door. Their expressionless faces held both disbelief and insight into what was due to happen with this woman. Even the honest child shared these emotions.

"I have none."

"What? No apologies, regrets, demands of your supposed innocence? You have nothing to say for your Lord and husband's sake?"

"_Of what worth are words when I am already damned to death?"_

"Another fine question on your part, Princess. You are right, though. Slick words will do you no good in Ozai's court, for he has already declared your guilt."

"The court is already in on it? I might have already guessed as much. Of course, my husband's judgment is a lie. He is not one to share the blame for crimes of his own doing."

This startled Yukio for a brief second. "Now you put the blame on Ozai? You alone carry this burden, Ursa."

"You are but another _fool_ of his reign," she growled. "You fail to see the corruptness of this plot he has weaved."

"I fail to see nothing," he retorted, "and that is why I, for my gracious Firelord, must carry out this punishment, one you rightfully deserve."

He hurled his mallet…


End file.
